


Triptych : Panel One

by Hedylogos



Series: Triptych [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, PWP, Rimming, Unsafe Sex, very little plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 14:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4964596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedylogos/pseuds/Hedylogos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young spy Harry Hart finds himself working very hard to maintain control under strenuous working conditions. His newly assigned handler has the last laugh as well as a thick Scots burr.  The target? Well, he has a rather lovely cock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triptych : Panel One

**Author's Note:**

> Three scenes in the life of Harry Hart.
> 
> Note: I will be continuing this, but currently life has been in the way. Next two sections should be up before Christmas, if not Thanksgiving.

**Venice, 1985**

Harry, having only recently having earned the title Galahad, adjusted his glasses as he watched his latest mark leave the room. The glasses, like the code name, were new and he was not yet fully accustomed to either. Before the mission he had worried that the glasses might be a problem on the honeypot, but that had not proven to be so, just as the gangly Scottish handler had assured him. His target was an Argentinian  ‘businessman’, Javiar Silvio, purportedly in Venice as a tourist if his passport info was to be believed, but really for far more nefarious purposes. It had been easy to make contact with the Argentinian on the crowded Rialto Bridge, another agent’s accidental seeming bump knocked the Argentinean into Harry.

The shower in the suite’s powder room started and Harry slipped off the bed. Harry retrieved the tiny camera concealed in his cigarette lighter from the bedside table. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes as well. He always felt so alone on these missions, reliant only on the information from the brief, praying nothing changed, all the while the men who gave the orders, like Arthur, sat safely back in headquarters. While others, suchHarry’s new handler as the gangly young Scotsman from Harry’s brief had turned out to be, sat in, well, safe houses and listened to their recordings and transmissions.

He dismissed the wayward thoughts as he crept, still nude, cigarettes and lighter in hand to the massive Louis XIV style wardrobe that dominated the bedroom’s far wall. Inside a garment bag hung next to two freshly pressed suits as well as a tuxedo still in the hotel’s laundry service bag. The garment bag held nothing but more clothes. Nothing in any of the suits' pockets either. Harry checked.

There was a line of polished shoes, plus one pair of tennis shoes, in the armoire's built in shoe rack. The man wore beautiful custom shoes including two pairs still boxed and bagged fresh from one of the finest shoemakers in Florence, harry noted with approval and a touch of envy. Harry slid the first box top off before sliding each shoe out of its cotton bag carefully checking for anything: a key, a note, one of the ‘floppy discs’ Harry’s new handler had gone on about…but there was nothing here either. He noted the cobbler for his next trip to Fiorenze. Harry sighed and stood, cracking his neck as he headed to the dresser that stood centered between the powder room door and the door that led to the sitting room. He eyed the powder room door warily. Silvio was still under the shower. Singing.

It was that song by Chaka Khan from a few years back. Harry could not remember the name, but it had been unavoidable at the time. Silvio certainly did not handle the high notes with the alacrity of Mrs. Khan.  Harry slid open the top drawer: a variety of socks, underwear, and undershirts. All rather jumbled together.The second drawer held a some tennis shorts and polo shirts, as well as several pairs of swimming trunks.  The third...

Squeaked. Just a bit, but Harry bit down on his lip and thought of the gun he had left hidden between the bed frame and mattress while Silvio had poured them drinks earlier with longing. Silvio was still singing away in the shower. He slid the drawer out carefully and slowly. A spare pillow.

He stared at it. The shower in the next room cut off. He slid the drawer closed.

 A spare pillow.

Harry froze as the realization hit him.

He could hear Silvio humming, than a hair dryer was flicked on. He slowly slid the drawer back open.

Since when did quality hotels keep spare bedding in the rooms? He pulled out the pillow to reveal an accordion file envelope. Harry lifted it up and opened the flap. Fanned papers out. Harry took a photo, a second photo. The dryer turned off. Harry resealed the envelope and placed it back exactly as it had been before he replaced the pillow. He had almost managed to close the drawer when Silvio stepped out of the bathroom in a fluffy white robe. Harry gaped up at Silvio, his hand still on the handle of the drawer he hadn't yet fully closed.

‘What the hell are you looking for?”

“A robe, actually, Javi.” Harry flashed the mark his most dazzling smile as he stood in one quick motion. Javier's frown flickered as Harry stood nude before him, smiling coyly with a curl tumbling artfully across his forehead. Harry smiled the purposefully shy smile he had cultivated for this man before he crossed the space between them in two strides to wrap an arm loosely over Silvio’s shoulder and looking deep into his dark brown eyes. Silvio’s mouth relaxed. He had bought Harry’s act rather well.

“There is a second in the _baño_ , Hugh.’ Silvia’s lilting accent was rather pleasant and the man, even if he was a Nazi war art smuggling criminal, was attractive at least. Harry nuzzled into Silvio’s neck and kissed a line from along his collarbone. The Argentinian disengaged, heading over to the French doors that were open onto the suite’s balcony. Harry watched the target sit down on one of the balcony’s chair before he removed his glasses and sat them down on the dresser facing the doors before entering the washroom himself leaving the door open a crack behind him.

He turned on the shower, than stood just inside the door connecting the two rooms. The phone was ringing and he listened to Silvio answer the call. He could not quite make out what was being said, but his glasses would record the conversation and he could hear it later. He smiled to himself as he stepped into the marble shower. Everything was going smoothly.

When he got out the next room was quiet. Harry carefully dried himself before wrapping the other robe around himself and checking out the silver tray of toiletries on the counter next to the sink. He selected the lotion and flicked the top open, giving it a quick sniff, sandalwood. Acceptable. He rubbed some lotion on his hands then peered into the mirror critically. He needed to shave soon. With a  sigh he wrapped the last dry bath towel around his head and slowly made his way to the suite’s sitting room with a loose hipped walk; his robe sliding open and the towel seemingly a bit more challenge than he could handle when he entered the sitting room where Silvio was waiting.

Silvio smiled at Harry, clearly charmed by the deliberate little display, buying Harry’s rather dim college boy on break routine completely. Harry flashed a grin at the older man as he let the towel fall over his face ‘accidentally.’ Silvio stood up and came to Harry’s aid; he took the towel from Harry and dried Harry’s hair. Harry leaned forward towards the man as Silvio slowly unwound the towel from around Harry’s head, a stray wave drooping over Harry’s forehead. “Have you seen my glasses, Javiar?”

“On the dresser, in the bedroom, Hugh.” The man laughed.

“Thanks, Javi, I think I would lose my head if it wasn’t attached." He ducked back into the bedroom and grabbed the glasses off the dresser, taking the time to place the wet towel back in the bathroom. Silvio had sat back down on the sofa when Harry returned, the Argentinian was bare chested wearing only a pair of grey trousers. It was a nice chest, broad and muscular that Silvio showed off. Harry crossed the room and sat down on the older man’s lap sliding an appreciative hand across the tan muscular width of Silvio’s chest.

“Mm”

“We have dinner reservations.” Silvio caught Harry’s roaming right hand by the wrist and gave Harry a stern look.

 Harry pouted at Silvio and ran his free hand left hand along the short hairs at the nape of the man’s neck. Silvio’s pupils dilated. Harry leaned down and kissed Silvio softly. Silvio let go of Harry’s right wrist as he returned the kiss.

“We could stay in.”

“Well…” Silvio’s voice trailed off as Harry slid his right hand down Silvio’s stomach slowly. “I _could_ order room service.”

Harry smiled excitedly at the Argentinean. “That would be fantastic!”

“There is a menu here somewhere, probably the desk or console. Go find it, babe.”

Harry slid off Silvio’s lap with a little moue, turning to give Silvio a cheeky grin when the man slapped his ass.

“ _Vamanos_.”

Harry found the menu fairly quickly, well actually he looked for it more than he needed to, as he already knew where it was from sweeping the room the day before, but one had to keep up appearances. He slowly trailed back across the room frowning as if in confusion at the Italian menu.

“I don’t know what to order,’ he peeked over the top shyly and adjusted his glasses. “Actually I don’t know what half of this is.”

He had to keep from rolling his eyes as Silvio pulled the menu from his hands and Harry back onto his lap, the older man assuring Harry he would order just the right things. Harry snuggled into the man’s neck and kissed the tan skin while Silvio looked over the menu. One of the room’s two phones sat on the table on the opposite side of the couch, the other on the desk. He had only managed to bug the desk phone so far. He slid off of Silvio and stretched out over the sofa, leaving his rump distractedly in the vicinity of Silvio as he picked the phone up off the side table with a fumble that concealed him placing the last bug.

Silvio took the phone from Harry but restrained Harry in place across his lap. Harry lay complacently across his lap as Silvio sat the phone on Harry’s upturned ass before lifting the receiver. He dialed room service.  Seconds passed. Silvio hung up the phone with a little slam.

‘They are busy.’

Harry turned to give a little pout at Silvio. “Try again.”

Silvio smiled. He sat the phone aside on the table next to him. Harry crawled back onto his lap, letting the robe gap open so that one pale pink nipple peeked out at Silvio. Silvio slid his hand under Harry’s robe and caught the nipple between his thumb and finger. The man was almost too easy to manipulate.

Silvio picked back up the receiver and dialed room service. Harry even managed to pretend to be embarrassed as Silvio pushed him down onto the floor between his spread legs as the call connected. Harry undid the zipper slowly, fumbled the zip just a hair. Not so much that the target really thought about it. Just enough. Carefully he took the uncut hardening cock out, wrapping one hand around the base and caressing the foreskin with his tongue tip so that Silvio’s free hand curled in Harry’s curls, air dried and at full volume for the moment. Harry slid his mouth around Silvio’s cockhead, reminding himself to not be too good. Too soon.

Silvio was placing there order: an _antipasto_ , an _insalata verde_ , _pasta carbonera_ , veal _scaloppini_ , and a bottle of Chianti all in overly emphasized, but passable, Italian as Harry worked his big cock into full hardness, as impressed that Silvio managed to keep his voice level while ordering as he was bored with Silvio’s basic order. The hardest thing about this job so far had been the mediocre Chianti Silvio had ordered at every meal.

Silvio hung up the phone, his free hand still wound in Harry’s hair, his other tucked behind his head content to let Harry work. He liked it slow, Harry riding his cock the first night languorously while Silvio laid back across the big bed apparently completely content, and able, to let Harry set the pace all night long. It had come as a relief to Harry’s aching thighs when Silvio had finally tipped him off and over onto his hands and knees, one hand around the back of Harry’s neck holding his face down in the bedspread the other gripping Harry’s thigh, as he had finished with a hard fuck that Harry had really felt in the morning.

The worst part had been that Silvio had held Harry tight against him once he had finished, and Harry had not been able to go wash the cum leaking from him until morning. That was just inconsiderate.

Harry sighed around Silvio’s cock. Which was a rather nice cock, all things considered, sort of largish and familiarly uncut. It had felt rather good up Harry’s ass the night before, and again in the morning, never mind that Harry had been sore. It would be a pity, no, a waste if Harry didn’t get it up him one more time before the mission was over, really. Quite rude not to let Silvio after the nice breakfast the man had  ordered up this morning, and the lunch spot they had walked to, and the pretty little art deco espresso pot he had bought Harry, ‘Hugh’,  at an antique spot on the way back to the hotel.

Harry pulled away from Silvio and the Argentinian looked down at him inquisitively. “Fuck me, Tony?”

‘Again, before dinner?” Silvio looked at his gold Rolex.  “Well.”

Harry cast his eyes downward bashfully, found it easy to blush when he remembered the room was bugged and his new handler was hearing everything. Then Silvio grabbed his arms and pulled Harry up onto the sofa, kissed him fiercely, Harry rather surprised by the sudden change in Silvio’s demeanor,let himself go boneless and compliant. Silvio finally pushed him over, guided Harry so that he was positioned with his knees on the sofa cushion, ass up in the air and body folded over, his forehead resting on his forearms folded on the sofa arm. As Silvio positioned himself behind Harry, Harry had nervous moment as he contemplated that Silvio was going to enter him dry and he started to protest when Silvio’s hand pressed against one butt cheek.

Harry gave a genuine cry of surprise as Silvio ran his tongue from the base of Harry’s balls up over his hole to the base of his spine in one quick stroke, then again, slowly, so that Harry registered every centimeter. Harry moaned, not faking it, and Silvio’s answering chuckle vibrated through Harry. Harry gripped the slippery satin fabric of the couch arm as Silvio began to circle Harry’s hole with his warm, slick tongue.

“Shit. Oh God, Silvio. Javiar.” He corrected the mistake but Silvio didn’t seem to notice or care as he continued. Shit. Harry moaned as Silvio flicked his tongue over the hole he had gently been circling, than another long, slow stroke down the cleft of Harry’s ass. He was moaning and the bug was certainly recording it. He spared a thought to Merlin, who would no doubt be red as a beet listening to yhe recordings later. He pushed back against Silvio in encouragement.

“I want you in me.”

Silvio responded by sliding the tip of his tongue in Harry’s hole and Harry groaned. His handler would just have to deal with it. It wasn’t like he could, or wanted to, do anything but spread his thighs a little more, moan a little louder, arch his back as Silvio skillfully undid him. Especially when Silvio took Harry’s cock, leaking precum onto the satin upholstery, in his hand as he continued to rim Harry. Harry was moving with him, back arching and stomach clenching in rhythm to the synchronized movements of Silvio’s hand and mouth.

‘Oh, God, Oh S-… Oh Javi.’

Javiar pulled away. ‘No, not yet.’

If Harry whimpered, it was completely by choice. Not need. Not disappointment. Silvio clambered atop Harry pulling Harry around to face him. They kissed, Harry not even noticing the rasp of Silvio’s five o’clock shadow, only aware of the aching need that was his cock, pressed against Silvio’s, the pulsing want of his ass. He tried to pull himself back together but Silvio’s hands were on his thighs.

“Spread your legs.”

Harry did, and Silvio rewarded him with a thick finger in Harry’s spit slicked hole. Harry’s body rose up to meet Silvio’s.

“God, yes.”

“More?”

“Yes, please.”

“mmm, so polite.”

“Please, Sir, another.” Harry had meant it to be light hearted. a bit of a joke between the lovers he pretended to be. A bit of a play on the English schoolboy part Silvio responded to so well. Something flashed in Silvio’s eyes and Harry got a second finger.  Silvio’s fingers worked him him deeper. Sought. Found. Stroked. Harry closed his eyes and breathed as Silvio worked his prostrate skillfully.

“Oh, god!”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes” Harry paused. He was in control; he had to be in control. “Sir.”

Silvio slowly slid his fingers out. “I’m going to fuck you, Hugh.”

“Please, Sir” Harry whimpered, panting. “Fuck me, Sir.”

Silvio stood up, his hard cock jutting from his open trousers and left the room. Harry leaned over and whispered at the telephone sitting next to the couch “I’ll expect these tapes edited before Arthur gets them.”

He rolled back up onto the couch and arranged himself in a fetching, yet wanton, position for Silvio’s return just in time. Silvio’s big cock bounced and swung obscenely as he walked across the sitting room to the sofa with a tube of lube in hand.

“Over the back.”

“Like this?” Harry folded his arms on the sofa back and rested his head on them, peering back at Silvio over his shoulder, his legs spread for Silvio, back arched so that his ass was an invitation.

“ _Si._ ”

Harry didn’t have to fake a groan as Silvia knelt behind him on the sofa, his thick cockhead rubbed against Harry’s hole teasingly before he slowly pushed in. Harry exhaled slowly as Silvio's thick cockhead pushed its way inside. He was sorer than he thought he would be, making it more uncomfortable in one way. But better, in another.

“Fuck me, fuck me now, Sir” Silvio pulled back out a bit before pushing back in deeper. This was not like last night, or this morning. Silvio fucked Harry hard, his cock spearing Harry deeply as his hips snapped forward with each thrust. One thing remained the same though: Silvio could seemingly go forever.

Sweat ran down the hollow of Harry’s spine and beaded on his chest, the room seemed to hot and close as Javier, Silvio, fucked him. Harry had given up on swallowing back his sounds; he moaned, groaned, and cursed freely as Javier fucked him, surveillance nearly forgotten as Silvio continued to fuck him into a state of near incoherence, his thick cock seemingly hitting Harry just right. The food would be here soon. Perhaps he had miscalculated how much time they had, or underestimated Javier’s endurance.

“Fuck me, Javi!” Silvio grunted and Harry tried again. “Fuck me, sir, please.” 

Somehow Silvio had extra reserves and he fucked Harry harder, Harry cried out part in pleasure and part in pain, but mainly just to get Silvio where he wanted him.

“Please, sir, “ Harry whimpered “oh, God! Sir! Please!”

‘ _Dio_!”  Silvio’s hips jerked spasmodically as he came in bursts in Harry’s ass, his hot cum filling Harry. “Ah, Hugh, Dio!”

“Fuck”

Silvio was slick with sweat; Harry lay back on the sofa half under him still, exhausted and sweaty as well. He needed another shower. Someone knocked on the door.

Harry grabbed the robe off the floor and wrapped it around himself as Silvio hurried into the bedroom. Harry opened the door to admit a uniformed waiter wheeling a cart full of covered dishes in front of him.

 “He’s getting his wallet” Harry informed the waiter. “Do you have coffee for after dinner, espresso?”

“Why, tired?” The waiter whispered his deep voice thick with a Scottish burr that had not been present when he’d greeted Harry at the door and thicker with meaning. The waiter’s dark eyes flicked towards the bugged phone. “It doesn’t just record, it transmits.”

Harry blushed, especially when the waiter tugged his right earlobe. Harry narrowed his eyes at the waiter who just smirked back at him unrepentant.

“Don’t worry; I get to edit out all the non-vital details…” Harry felt a sense of relief flood him “Though I don’t _have_ to delete them.”

Harry carefully schooled his face into a vaguely bored expression as Silvio returned with his wallet, which Harry had earlier dumped behind the bedside table to buy extra time, in hand to tip the waiter. He had also put on some clothes.

“ _Grazie_.”

The waiter gave Silvio a little bow before leaving.

 

Later that evening, or more accurately, early the next morning Harry finally managed to extradite himself from Silvio’s tight embrace and back to the safe house. His new handler was waiting for him, his equipment packed up and ready to go in pair of matching leather suitcases. Harry had film in his camera they needed to develop. His new handler had thick, black hair that he wore somewhat long, not in a stylish way but rather as if he forgot to have it trimmed. His eyes behind his out of style frames gazed at Harry in an unsettling manner. One eyebrow raised.

“Everything in place?”

“Yes, Merlin.”

“Very good.” The tall handler’s lip quirked.  ‘Tired?”

“It’s part of the job, Merlin.” Harry’s voice was sharp over the handler’s code name. “I did what was necessary.”

“In the shower as well?” Merlin couldn’t quite keep the laughter out of his voice and Harry felt a flush creep up his cheeks. Well, both men had been sticky with sweat and other things, and if it had gotten a little heated in the shower and their dinner cold in the next room one couldn’t help it.

Harry grabbed a suitcase full of equipment in one hand and gestured with his chin at the other piece. “Ready?”

“Yes.” The young handler’s lip quirked. “Sir.”


End file.
